


you're in my veins

by onefootonego (startingXI)



Series: ex animo [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, allusion to past sexual violence and violence of other kinds, vaguely historical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 00:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: in one controlled motion, alex pulls the shirt up and over lucy’s head. there’s a moment of adjust for lucy, shivering once against the cool air of the room, but alex’s hand skates down her back in calming. with anyone else, such an action would leave lucy feeling uncomfortably exposed and unsure, however with alex she feels little beyond contentment. alex’s fingers stroke along the top of lucy’s shoulders, skating down her arms. tonight she does not linger over any of the scars beneath her finger tips. instead, she lets her hands tangle with lucy’s and provides a reassuring squeeze “you’re gorgeous.” she says, just to see the tips of lucy’s ears redden in the dark – and too alex says those words because she can see the tension and turmoil lucy is carrying in her shoulders and is sure it must radiate down her spine. the compliment draws a smile from lucy, and for the moment, that is enough.





	you're in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> the happenings in this piece would make far more sense if you have already read the first in this series. however it is not mandatory. 
> 
> further, i would once again advise strong cautions for those who may be trigged by past discussion and allusion to sexual violence and other abuse. the acts themselves are not talked about in any great depth, however they are mentioned.

lucy has no certainty that maggie will sleep, although she hopes that the woman will – if only so that shadows in her eyes will grow no deeper. not to mention the dark rings beneath that betray just how little restful sleep the woman has found herself with as of late. lucy’s mind ticks back to her own horrors as she ascends the stairs. how sleep was often something she dreaded, a dropping of what little guard she was afforded. lucy shivers, but the motion has little to do with the temperature around her. this highest level of the house is far less used when the general is away, than the one lucy has just departed. this floor houses his study, his war room and his bedroom. however, this level too is also where alex will take her rest. 

a rest lucy hopes alex has not sought out yet. although she knows her friend and doubts that alex will have succumbed to sleep so early in the evening, especially when lucy’s own distress had been palpable since her arrival. 

turning right, away from the end of the house that is her fathers, lucy faces what appears to be dead end, a void save for the expanse of books of law and martial theory adorning a floor to ceiling shelf. except lucy knows far better. she has vague and increasingly fading memories of her mother taking her here, showing her the right book on the shelf to tug that would result in the silent sliding open of a door to her left. at the time, such a room had been lucy’s mothers hideaway, a moment of peace from the toils of running a household. now however, now the space is something else entirely. 

the fireplace has been stoked, the warmth is almost overpowering as lucy pushes the door shut behind her with a soft hitch, certain that no one who so causally glances will be able to discern it from the rest of the panelled wall. stepping deeper into dancing shadows, lucy can see the bed covers are rumpled, as if someone had taken time to sit on the edge of them and take stoke. it is not there she spies alex. it takes but a moment for lucy to spy alex sitting in one of the highbacked chairs angled towards the fire. she is nursing a finger of whiskey and seems wholly unsurprised to see lucy. if anything tension drops from her shoulders as lucy rounds the corner and all but collapses, gracelessly, into the chair across. 

“how is she?” alex’s asks after a beat. 

“safe.” lucy sighs, “asleep, i hope.” 

“after your return you slept more from exhaustion than a desire to do so,” alex remembers quietly, punctuating the sentence with a long sip of her drink “but the rest did you good.” 

lucy nods, her memories around the time of her safe return are far clearer than she would like, and tonight she has found them, and others far worse, amplified. her brand seems to tingle and other, less visible scars are making their presence known tonight. all in all, it leaves lucy shifting in her chair. 

“how are you?” alex asks after lucy silence stretches on. she asks the question from her perch, glass in one hand, but her gaze is steady and soft on lucy. 

“tired.” lucy sighs, dragging her eyes away from the fire and focusing on alex “you arrived quick.” she comments, aware that alex will not allow her to turn the tide of conversation so easily. 

“the message that i was needed sounded urgent.” alex shrugs “my mother understands the life of a doctor generally doesn’t follow the daylight hours.” alex’s words are amused and lucy can hear the soft smile “you know i’ll always come for you,” alex adds “and if you want,” she says “i’ll stay the night?” 

it’s hardly a question, they both know alex is staying the night, and they both know the bed next to them will be shared. yet alex is fervent when it comes to asking for lucy’s consent in such things. 

“you don’t have to ask.” lucy points out. 

“i’ll always ask.” alex says “especially tonight.” 

lucy lets out a wavering breath “you should have seen her,” she says quietly, gaze drifting away from alex and towards the single window through which the stars shine “she was,” lucy struggles to try and explain what she saw on maggie’s face, in her body language, that first time stepping into the kitchen “do you remember the first time my father let you see me after my return?” she asks. 

“of course.” alex nods, she remembers the moment well – being lead into lucy’s room by the general himself, after so many months of worry and despair, it took alex merely seconds to understand that her friend would never be the same “you were skittish. the door opening made you jump.” alex says finally “for good reason.” 

“she was like that,” lucy says “but worse, but more terrified.” 

“who knows what hells she has been through.” alex murmurs darkly, then “although we both have some guesses.” 

“we do.” lucy says, her gaze distant and unseeing. 

there’s a pause and then “let’s go to bed.” alex murmurs “i can hold you and distract you from night terrors with the latest tales kara has from school and the city.” 

“when did she get back?” lucy asks, standing as alex does, and reaching out for her with a hand. 

alex’s hand is warm in her own, as is the rest of alex when she pulls lucy into her arms. the soft sigh that escapes lucy’s lips as alex’s arms wrap around her is one of relief and one of succumbing to familiar comfort. she tucks her head against alex’s collarbone and from this position can hear the thudding of the womans heart. 

“three days ago,” alex says “when you and i were out hunting. she only felt well enough to properly catch up as of this morning.” her tone takes a darker edge “i keep telling my mother that attending that school is doing her more harm than good. each time she comes home it takes longer and longer for her to feel right and steady again. of course, kara won’t complain. she’ll grin and bear it until the headaches render her catatonic.” 

alex’s concern is palpable, even to lucy, and the talk of the younger danvers sister is a welcome distraction as lucy steps out of alex’s arms “surely your mother knows how bad things are getting?” 

“of course she does.” alex says, her fingers coming to play with the hem of lucy’s shirt, “may i?” she asks, again with her asking and lucy cannot help but nod. 

alex has seen the extent of her scars many times before tonight, and lucy wonders if maybe it will be her soft and knowing touch that will bring her some element of comfort. nothing tonight well venture into the sexual relationship they share, but lucy has found that with women, touch can be a means to more than one end. 

in one controlled motion, alex pulls the shirt up and over lucy’s head. there’s a moment of adjust for lucy, shivering once against the cool air of the room, but alex’s hand skates down her back in calming. with anyone else, such an action would leave lucy feeling uncomfortably exposed and unsure, however with alex she feels little beyond contentment. alex’s fingers stroke along the top of lucy’s shoulders, skating down her arms. tonight she does not linger over any of the scars beneath her finger tips. instead, she lets her hands tangle with lucy’s and provides a reassuring squeeze “you’re gorgeous.” she says, just to see the tips of lucy’s ears redden in the dark – and too alex says those words because she can see the tension and turmoil lucy is carrying in her shoulders and is sure it must radiate down her spine. the compliment draws a smile from lucy, and for the moment, that is enough. 

“and you’re far too clothed to be talking like that.” lucy says with a soft grin, tapping alex’s hip until she turns around.

with quick fingers lucy is able to work at the ties near the top of alex’s shirt and lift it from her. underneath alex’s shirt are the bindings she prefers around her chest. lucy is familiar enough with these to carefully unwind them, folding and wrapping them in over themselves until alex is bare chested in the room. she bears her own scars, although they are borne of her own recklessness, as lucy is well aware. 

it takes minutes longer for them to change fully into nightclothes, and in their shared silence lucy says “i showed her my brand.” when she speaks, lucy is tending to the fire, which has waned considerably by this point. 

alex cannot help the breath that catches in her chest. her pause comes with good reason – the number of people who know about lucy’s mark can be counted on two hands if alex includes the men who gave it to her. that number drops to a single hand worth when considering those who know and are still alive. alex had yearned to deliver some sort of reciprocal violence but in that time she was new doctor without the reach she has now. of course, general lane had no such obstacles when it came to ensuring the full extent of his wrath was known. if half the rumours that reached alex’s ears served to be true, then the men involved got what was coming to them, and then some. aware of her drawn out silence, alex speaks with careful words “did it help?” alex asks, understanding lucy’s motives in sharing such a part of herself. 

“i think it helped maggie,” lucy concedes. 

“and yourself?” alex asks. 

the fire calmed and tended to, lucy ventures back towards the bed. she swallows hard “that scar has never done me good.” lucy says after careful consideration “but it, it showed maggie i understand some of her suffering. it eased her far somewhat, i think. i hope.” she says. 

lucy’s stomach twists and the fur rug beneath her feet itches and spurs her to climb into bed with haste. the sheets are cool and welcome, but far more sought is the arm that wraps around her waist “breathe.” alex encourages, able, even in the dark, to catch the way lucy’s chest has halted and her attention is caught on distant pains. 

the breath that lucy exhales is short and unsteady. sitting her, surrounded by the softness of the bed and the dark and alex, it is as if the demons of her past and the night itself are catching up with her. when focus was needed on maggie, on ensuring no further harm and no further fear, it was easy for lucy to block out the memories and the panic. now though, where maggie is sound and safe, there is nothing to stop the howling wolves of lucy’s nightmares from encircling her. they are fearless, even in her conscious state and lucy curls in on herself, stopped only by alex’s presence slotted in beside her. 

arms reposition around lucy’s shoulders, and there is the brush of alex’s lips against her temple “breath,” alex encourages “that’s all you need to do. you’re not alone. you’re not in danger.” 

lucy shudders, memories drifting in and out of focus as she battles to keep them down, keep them away. 

what comes as a result of her internal conflict is sharp, unsteady breathing with a vice-like grip on one of alex’s arms wrapped around her. 

“i’m here.” alex promises “i’m here.” 

a choked and muted cry escapes and lucy ducks her head into the soft curve of alex’s body. she has sought such comfort from alex before, and times have come where alex has asked the same from lucy. tonight, is a rare night however. tonight is a night that has not come to pass in months, or what could be a year by now. at the present lucy does not feel like she is master of how past. instead, lucy feels rendered down and helpless, trapped as she did four years ago. she can feel rough touches against her skin and she can hear the ripping of her dress. the memories of then are so visceral, so real that panic of her own making threatens to consume her, 

but alex does not waver. 

alex keeps talking, keeps soothing. she stands steady in the storm of lucy’s emotions, an unwavering beacon that remains unyielding. this is not the first night alex has steadied lucy through such a wash and tumble of emotions, and alex has no doubt it will be the last, the trauma of lucy’s past is one that does not sink quietly into the background. the only upstroke that alex can find, to the recurrence of these terrors, is that with each passing episode alex finds herself more assured and more confident that she can actually help lucy. there had been nothing in her medical education on the treatment and handling of crisis attached to a friends trauma. less still had there been anyone to whom alex could turn and seek advice. her medical colleagues were still reeling from the realisation that alex was not in fact alexander, and was actually, alexandria. 

it had, in the end, been her mother who alex turned to. 

sage advice had encouraged alex to be patient, to listen, to be present and to, 

well, 

alex finds herself holding lucy close to her side now. she can feel the trembling in lucy’s shoulders and there are hot tears soaking into the front of alex’s sleep shirt. yet she does not care. she doesn’t care because as time passes and the moon passes its highest point in the sky, 

lucy settles. 

she stills in alex’s arms and her head turns up, bright eyes meeting alex’s. she is struggling to find words to describe how she feels in the moment. the memories of her trauma are receding like the tide, and in their wake follows a desire for sleep. not just a desire for sleep but a desire for alex’s arms around her and soft pressure of alex’s body against her own. lucy wants to fall asleep surrounded by the one person who makes her feel safest. it is this which she tries to explain, but words escape her and she finds that alex needs none to understand what lucy wants. 

as lucy settles into bed, she can feel alex waiting for her to rest. she can feel alex pull the layered covers over them both, the darkness well and truly encompassing them now as the fire is naught but smouldering embers. alex settles behind her, pressing a delicate kiss to the nap of lucy’s neck where once cruel hands held her rough. lucy shivers and presses her back against alex’s front, seeking more contact, more comfort. such needs are met readily and with familiar touches, familiar butterfly kisses to lucy’s shoulder, her neck, the tip of her ear. 

“sleep,” alex coaxes, when they are both settled “i’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> y'all! thank you so much for the response on the first part of this series. i have a number of further scenes and plots to explore in this universe, and i hope y'all stick around for the ride. 
> 
> feel free to come shout at me on tumblr at 4beit.


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